It was then when I noticed that Cora hadn’t returned from the bathroom. I moved to the door and gently knocked. “Cora,” I called through the door. “Cora, are you doing okay in there?”

No response.

I knocked more forcefully.

Still no answer. That was when I saw the clear liquid seeping out from beneath the locked door.

“What is it?” Mara asked from behind me.

“Go get a nurse,” I said calmly. Through the door I tried to summon a response from Cora. “Open the door, Cora.”

Within seconds a nurse came into the room. “Open the door,” I ordered. The nurse deftly unlocked the door and pushed it open. Sitting in a corner with her head on her knees was Cora, the coil of plastic tubing laid next to her, its contents surrounding her in a now bloody puddle. At first I thought the blood was from the IV access site in Cora’s hand but as Cora lifted her head from her knees I quickly found that not to be the case.

“Oh, my God,” Mara gasped.

“This is your fault!” Jim Landry hissed at me. “You were supposed to help her!”

Stitch by stich, Cora was pulling the sutures from her face, her fingers sticky with blood. She must have already plucked the stitches from her abdomen because blood bloomed brightly across her hospital gown.

I fell to my knees and grabbed her bloody fingers in mine. “Cora, why?” I asked. “Why did you do this to yourself?”

“It wasn’t Kendall,” she whispered. “It wasn’t Violet and Jordyn. They didn’t do it.”

Five Months Later

Five months later

Thomas Petit September 14, 2018

Thomas Petit

September 14, 2018

Later, I got to see the video footage from the camera in front of the train’s engine. I came as close to dying as I ever have. The video wasn’t the best quality and there was no audio but it was clear that John Dover and I were having words. I tripped and fell backward and John Dover tried to help me up. It’s a miracle that I didn’t die and it’s equally amazing that John Dover didn’t die trying to save me. I did end up with a torn rotator cuff in my shoulder. Could have been a hell of a lot worse.